


Bows

by AGayMessTBH



Category: Uta no Prince-sama, UtaPri
Genre: First Kiss, Gay Panic, Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Relationship, but like not really, very slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 22:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGayMessTBH/pseuds/AGayMessTBH
Summary: Everyone knows Ren Jinguji is a womanizer. Except, that he isn’t, not really.





	Bows

Everyone knew Ren Jinguji was a womanizer. He passed around lingering touches as if they were candy to children. Everywhere he went a trail of broken hearts followed, a path that had been following him since he was thirteen.

Because when he was thirteen he realized he wasn’t interested in girls to begin with.

He and Masato had fallen out, and he was filled with so much rage. Rage that he lost his only true friend. He was angry, and sad, and confused, and his stomach would twist funny when he thought about his friend. But it didn’t twist the same way as when his father locked up all traces of his mother. No this twist was different. This twist was the innocent butterflies that come with any crush. When he thought about Masato’s hands dancing on the piano, or his hands pulling Ren to secret places, or his hands—no Ren wouldn’t think about it.

Being gay, especially in his high standing was disastrous. He knew his family wouldn’t approve of a Jinguji heir (though the third in line for the so called throne) being anything but “normal,” so he bottled up his sexuality and tied it up with a nice little bow. Something for Ren, and Ren only. To cover his tracks he put up a persona. Ren was already a tease, so it wasn’t that far of a stretch to add flirting with girls, especially at his age. So he did. At thirteen the trail began. 

But pretending was hard. Ren appreciated women, and appreciated their beauty. The softness of women, and the way a soprano’s voice could just wail and cry high notes, as if mourning something indistinct. But, he would prefer the company of a bass, a strong foundation that kept everything together, the root of the chord. Ren didn’t want softness he wanted more rough angles. Strong hands to hold, hands like Masato’s, but Ren wouldn’t think about that.

But soon enough Ren had become good at pretending. It no longer felt dishonest, rather, it felt like he was surviving. By now his reputation has grown. Ren Jinguji, a man who had deflowered as many girls as he could. But it wasn’t true. He had never even been kissed, much less tried anything more. But the reputation was good, it kept him safe. It was like Rapunzel’s tower. It kept him away from all the bad things that came with being gay, but it also shielded him from the good. It shielded him from actual romantic relationships, made him hide a part of himself, and made something that shouldn’t be shameful seem like the biggest flaw Ren had.

But Ren had the bow tied around the bottle. A pretty little package to come back to when he was ready. He just wasn’t ready to face that part of himself yet.

Then he entered Saotome Academy, and he was reunited with Masato. Ren tried hard not to hate him. He had so much resentment toward himself that he couldn’t help but resent the man who made him realize this part of him. Something inside of Ren, however, knew it wasn’t resentment, it was longing. Longing to have those skilled hands tangled with his own. To finally have room to experiment with kissing and romance and being a teen, something he never had the chance to do. But Masato had the weight of his father’s expectations on top of his shoulders, and even though Ren desperately wanted to help Masato carry it, he couldn’t find the words to express it. And so he pushed this down too, adding another ribbon to his bottle.

But then there was Haruka Nanami. A calm demure damsel. A perfect girl. Easily flustered, easy to tease. Ren felt fondness for her, but his stomach didn’t twist the same way it did for Masato. However, Ren felt a connection to her, so his playful teasing toward her didn’t feel disingenuous. It didn’t feel the same as his forced flirting either. It was a connection Ren couldn’t explain.

Until one day they were working on Ren’s solo song, scribbling words on paper, and plunking out different chord progressions to see what stuck.

“Jinguji, you know that I’m bi, right?” Haruka said this so casually, as of coming out wasn’t a big deal.

And perhaps it wasn’t for her, her grandmother loved her so dearly, and she was so accepted and supported, that she probably saw this aspect of her as that, simply an aspect of who she was, not this gigantic boulder she was cursed to push up a mountain. Ren’s throat felt tight. 

“No I didn’t, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” his words came out wrong, garbled. His voice sounded thick as a fog, and he knew Haruka noticed.

But she just smiled warmly, and moved to Ren’s side. Rubbing circles into his back.

“Ren it’s okay,” Haruka leaned her head against his shoulder, trying to spread some comfort to him.

Ren felt something swell inside him, relief, maybe? She was like him. Haruka wouldn’t judge him for being different. She would accept him. And so he said those words for the first time out loud. His voice nothing above a whisper, fearing that someone might overhear.

“Haruka, I’m gay.”

Haruka hummed softy into his ear before speaking, “That’s good Ren. Ren, you’re good.”

He didn’t get back to his dorm until late that night. Haruka brought Ren to her room so they could talk without fear of anyone over hearing. Ren knew that she had loosened the bows on his bottle, not enough to unseal it, but enough to let some of the tension loose.

He was surprised to see Masato waiting for him when he got back. He was hunched over the table working on calligraphy. 

“What are you still doing up?” Ren asked, shutting the door behind him. His voice was tinged with concern.

“Couldn’t sleep,” came the reply.

Ren rubbed his red, tear stained eyes slightly before retreating into the bathroom.

Masato simply turned his head and stared into the spot where Ren had stood, he hadn’t heard Ren’s voice be that soft towards him in a long while.

Ren’s act didn’t stop. But he was able to drop it around Haruka. They were able to sneak away and enjoy each other’s company, quietly laughing during lunches, sneaking knowing looks to each other during rehearsals. Soon the others began to notice this change as well. Masato didn’t like the way they stole glances at each other and seemed to have exclusive jokes.

He became even more short with Ren, rising to every little antagonism Ren threw at him. Ignoring him when he left in the morning and when he got back at night. Masato didn’t like that Ren and Haruka seemingly were falling in love.

Ren noticed this change, and tried to convince himself it was for the best. This way Masato would never know about Ren’s feelings. He was safe in his tower. He flung himself into writing songs to distract him from the pain in his heart, staying up at all hours of the night before waking up early to avoid seeing Masato. Instead of talking to Haruka, he wrote himself poems, small personal lyrics to help him cope with what he felt. He was too anxious to eat anything most days, and he began to feel guilty.

He felt guilty using Haruka as a beard, for deceiving his friends about who he truly was, for making Masato think that he hated him, when in reality he just wanted to hug him close and never let go.

Ren was fine, until he wasn’t. His poor choices finally began to catch up to him. One minute he was fighting with Masato as they walked to practice, and the next his vision was blanking out, white stars dancing in front of him. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, and he grabbed at the wall for balance.

Masato kept walking for bit, but soon noticed Ren had stopped biting back at his remarks. He turned around, and saw Ren trying to keep steady.

“Ren!” Masato called.

Ren’s head shot up, Masato hadn’t called him that in years. Those long and infuriating fingers curled around Ren’s shoulders to steady him. He was going to mutter Masato’s name to convince the other that he was fine, but the word died on his tongue, as his vision finally blacked out completely. He slumped over on top of Masato.

“Ren, hey,” Masato shook him gently, trying to awaken the other, but it did nothing.

He lifted a pale hand to Ren’s forehead, it was burning up. Masato shuffled his phone out of his pocket, and quickly called the rest of the group to let them know that he and Ren would be missing practice. Then he draped Ren across his back, and lifted him in a sort of piggyback. Ren’s hair tickled his cheek, as he walked them back to their shared room. Ren’s shampoo smelt like coconut and citrus.

Masato quickly laid Ren down into his bed. Ren was covered in sweat, no doubt from his fever. Masato covered him in a sheet, and damped a washcloth to wipe at Ren’s brow. He had never noticed, but in his sleep, Ren truly looked like the young boy Masato once knew. Though his hair was longer now, it still curled the same on top of his nose. It had come loose from the bobby pins that held it in place, and Masato pushed his fingers through the hair like he would when they were young. It was still just as soft.

“You’re an idiot,” Masato quietly reprimanded. He knew Ren was avoiding him, just as he was avoiding Ren, but he didn’t know the toll it was having on the other’s health. Once he awoke, Masato knew they needed to have a conversation. But for now, Masato sat at the side of Ren’s bed trying to keep him as comfortable as possible. His hands were shaking, and he needed something to do. So he cooked some broth, stirring it back and forth with a ladle. This did little to calm his nerves, so he tried to sit and do some calligraphy to calm the unease in his mind.

He tried to figure out just what he was feeling, so he wrote unease, nerves, and in shaking letters, jealousy. Masato was jealous. Jealous that Haruka was able to have those quiet moments with Ren, those moments Masato was previously privileged with. He was jealous that she and Ren knew something about each other that Masato didn’t. He was jealous that Haruka liked Ren more than him.

Masato didn’t even notice that he had written jealousy so many times he ran out of room on the paper. He crumpled it up, not wanting Ren to find it later, and threw it away. His hands shaking, Masato typed out a message to Haruka on his phone. 

Ren’s been overworking himself to avoid me.

It was sent. Haruka replied quickly.

It’s not just you, he’s avoiding himself.

Then Ren began to wake up.

Masato sent Haruka one last message that Ren was okay, before moving towards the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Masato asked softly in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. He pushed back Ren’s bangs to feel if he was still warm, he was, but significantly less so. A flush filled Ren’s cheeks.

“Not great,” Ren muttered, pushing Masato’s hand away.

Masato didn’t think about why that action made his heart hurt. He tended not to think about things, it was easier to just do what was expected of him. 

“We need to talk,” Masato crossed his arms, an attempt to keep himself less vulnerable in front of Ren.

“What’s there to talk about? You’re avoiding me, I’m avoiding you,” Ren turned to face the wall.

“You got hurt,” Masato pointed out. He refused to look at Ren. He hadn’t forgiven Ren for cutting out him off, though, it’s not like he tried to contact Ren either. 

Ren wanted to bite back that Masato didn’t care about him. That Masato didn’t care that he had spent years burying down everything that he felt. That Masato didn’t care enough about him to even call him. But that wasn’t fair. Masato had stayed here with him. Masato had made sure he was okay. He knew Masato cared a lot, but covered it up with disinterest, because it was easier to be blasé than it was to show people how he felt. 

The silence in the room was uncomfortable. Both of them had a million things to say, but no way to put it. Masato turned to look at Ren. He still looked so young like this. Like he was still the ten year old kid who had simply asked him if he was bored.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” and Masato realized he meant it. He’s sorry for avoiding him years ago. And he’s sorry for avoiding him now. “I just thought that you and Haruka were becoming close, and you wouldn’t want me around to mess with that. She’s your girlfriend after all.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Ren whispered. 

“Oh, I just assumed—“

“Everyone assumes everything about me!” Ren barked. Maybe it was his fever finally letting him admit that all of the assumptions hurt. 

“Everyone thinks that Ren Jinguji, the womanizing fiend wants nothing more than to concur every woman he finds. He sleeps around for fun,” Ren was quiet for a moment, “I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

Masato continued to stare at him. He had assumed, like everyone, that Ren had earned his reputation. That Ren had at least slept with one of the girls that threw themselves at him. 

“I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. The only person that didn’t assume things about me was Haruka. That’s why we’ve been hanging out, shes the only one that knows that—“ he stopped. Ren wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Masato this yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted those fingers to untie those bows, and leave him so exposed.

“You don’t have to tell me, Ren. We both have our secrets, and if you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine.”

Masato placed a hand on Ren’s shoulder, a silent gesture that he understood, “I made you some soup. Eat it and get some rest.”

Ren stared at the hand, and slowly lifted his own to meet it, giving it a squeeze. A thank you. Masato just gave him a smile, and moved to the bathroom to take a shower.

Things changed a little. Ren, instead of throwing away chocolate from fans, would leave it on Masato’s desk. Masato would leave Ren post it notes that said “today will be good” when he knew the other had a rough night. Tentatively the pair began a friendship, navigating each other’s hurt from their previous attempt, while trying to create new memories to replace the bad.

A year passed, and the pair became a trio. And soon enough Masato’s father was pestering him to come back and take over the Hijirikawa group. He did his best to ignore his father, but everything was just too much. So he went to a practice room, and played piano. He played until his fingers cramped. Anything to keep him from thinking. He played until a soft knock came from the door. 

“Hijirikawa? What are you still doing here?” It was Ren.

“Trying not to think.” He admitted, fingers still dancing on the keys.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll tell you something if you tell me what’s going on.”

Ren had been trying to come up with a way to come out to Masato. He didn’t want it to be anything grand, but ever since Ranmaru moved in there hasn’t exactly been a quiet moment to tell him without Ranmaru over hearing. So now was as good a time as any.

Masato stared at Ren, his hands pausing from playing. Ren seemed so sincere. Masato cleared his throat.

“My father wants me to return home and leave being an idol behind me. But everything I do will just disappoint him, so there’s really no point.”

“I can understand that. Maybe not in the same way, but I get that.”

“How so?”

“I’m gay.” Ren turned away as he admitted it. Masato’s hands suddenly felt incredibly heavy. He set them gently on the piano, but then plucked out a song to keep them busy. 

Masato don’t quite know what to say. He wanted to tell Ren a thousand things all at once, and yet nothing seemed right. So he inched his hand closer to Ren’s and laced their fingers together slowly. 

Ren turned to face Masato, and found the pianist staring at the keyboard. Masato had stopped playing, but he refused to meet Ren’s gaze, almost as if he were embarrassed. Suddenly Ren felt as if Masato’s long infuriating fingers had silently untied those bows, without Ren even noticing.

“Well, at least we’re both disappointing them in that way.” Masato whispered back. 

Ren’s eyes widened, “You’re?”

“Yes,” Masato confirmed, taking his other hand and connecting it with Ren’s as well.

Ren laughed, and leaned over and put his forehead in Masato’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking from how hard he was laughing. 

“Wow, we really are the worst heirs?”

“Yeah I guess we are,” Masato chuckled back.

“Can I kiss you?” Ren asked, suddenly feeling brave. Masato didn’t respond, he was never great with finding the right words, so he instead connected their lips together.

It was sloppy. Both of them were inexperienced. They tried to find a tempo, and any semblance of a rhythm. Soon they did, and their mouths moved softly against one another. Here on this piano bench they were making their own music, a simple melody that only they shared. However, every song had to come to an end.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I was thirteen,” Ren admitted sheepishly, quickly sneaking in a peck on Masato’s lips. 

“Why didn’t you?” Masato whispered back, placing their foreheads together.

“I was scared.”

Masato hummed, and kissed him again. He wanted to tell Ren that everything was alright, that they were going to be fine. But he couldn’t yet guarantee that. They were in high standing families, and not everyone was willing to accept people who loved differently. 

But here in this moment, Ren’s bottle was empty, and he had the feeling that life would work out for him, somehow—

He had Masato, and Haruka, who were just like him. He had friends, so many friends who would love and support him, that he didn’t need his family, he found one along the way.

Ren Jinguji knew he was never a womanizer, not really. But he was scared and lost and desperately seeking a distraction. But now he no longer needed the act, not with the boy he wrapped his arms around telling him that he was loved, that he was enough.


End file.
